Behind Closed Doors
by MaryandMerlin
Summary: Amelia Bones has made a lot of enemies. It's only a matter of time until it comes to fruition.


**Author's Note: I actually really enjoyed writing this! It was a nice little change of pace.**

 **Prompts**

 **QLFC -** Round 4

Write about the Boneses (Amelia Bones)

(colour) Silver, (dialogue) "You got a package for me?" (quote) A little drama wins . more friends than boring. - Scott Westerfeld

 **FRIENDS challenge**

TOW The Memorial Service - Write about a character who died in canon.

 **Disney Challenge**

Jane Porter - Write about someone being cautious

 **Percy Jackson Character Challenge**

Charles Beckendorf: Write about self sacrifice.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise!**

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Behind Closed Doors

Not even the illusion of safety could still Amelia's rising nerves. To the world, she maintained her perfect, unruffled facade. She went to work at the ever-crumbling Ministry and tried to create a sense of calm and direction in an otherwise sinking ship. But when she made it home each night, Amelia crumbled. As soon as the door closed behind her, all pretenses dropped.

She knew her actions in society were drawing the wrong sort of attention. Her continuous fight for what was right went against the tide, and she had been approached more than once with thinly veiled threats.

Amelia had become almost obsessive in her routines. She all but barricaded herself in a room at the centre of her house, locking and warding every door and window between her and the outside world. Despite all the precautions, Amelia knew that she wasn't safe. Not if _he_ didn't want her to be.

Only today she had been approached in the middle of the Ministry walkway by that snake, Goyle, who had shoved a note into her hand before grinning and continuing on his way. The encounter had shaken Amelia to her core and she had hurried home, desperate to be out of the open.

The scrap of paper now sat on the desk in front of her, demanding she turn over several important documents that would free prominent Death Eaters from Azkaban. It seemed that Voldemort was still hiding behind the pretense that he wasn't back in power, a strength that the spineless Fudge was playing right into. The note had specified a time to have the package of documents ready for, on pain of death.

The ticking of the clock grew ever louder, and Amelia struggled to concentrate on the letter she was writing to her niece in Hogwarts. Her silver-tipped quill scratched loudly in the silence and her normal flowing script was shaky and covered in blotches. It was a thinly veiled warning and a set of instructions to follow when the inevitable happened. She had been putting off writing it, but it seemed that she couldn't afford to waste anymore time.

Amelia stood by the small window, her sleek black owl just disappearing over the horizon, when the clock behind her began to chime. She held her breath as the elaborate tinkle of bells rang out behind her, informing her that it was 7pm and that her time was up. A beat of silence followed the final bell. It was broken by the sucking sound and soft pop that accompanied Apparation. All of her wards, her precautions, her illusion of protection - destroyed within seven chimes of a clock. She supposed she should be proud that it took them that long.

"You got a package for me?"

It was not the sort of voice she was expecting. It was laced with a commoner's twang that did not usually accompany the pureblood supremacy that the Death Eaters tended to surround themselves with. Amelia twitched her head to the side, glancing over her shoulder. The man was short, stout and grubby. He had a greedy aura and his pinched face was deeply wrinkled, though he could not have been much older than she was. He rubbed his greasy hands together impatiently, glancing around as if expecting someone or something to jump out of the shadows at him. Perhaps it would, Amelia didn't know what would happen to the messenger.

She turned her gaze back to the window and the grey horizon beyond.

"No."

In less than a moment, it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room. A small pop alerted Amelia to the departure of the short man but that in no way meant she was now alone.

"Missss Boness."

It was a hiss, barely a breath away, and it sent a shiver that moved like a wave down her spine. This was who she had been expecting from the beginning; she had never tried to cling to the ridiculous notion that he wasn't back. She had known from the first moment Harry Potter had sobbed over Cedric Diggory's body.

Amelia stared out the window for a second longer, soaking in the sky. She could feel his presence hovering like an ominous cloud behind her. Finally, she turned, and was confronted with the Dark Lord, returned to flesh. His smooth, pale head. The slits of eyes and nose. The long, encompassing black robe. The slender wand cradled so loosely in one pale, spindly hand. His mouth open in a grotesque smile as he breathed out a chuckle.

"Sso calm," he observed, "but you cannot fool me, Missss Boness." He inched closer, cupping the other hand to his ear. "I can hear it," he whispered, "your heart betrayss you; it beats fasster and fasster with every breath you take."

"I would be a fool not to fear you, Tom."

Voldemort's easy amusement changed in a moment to something sharp and dark. "I am no longer that _boy_. I am Lord Voldemort. You would be a fool to call me otherwise."

Amelia titled her head, assessing him. "No, you aren't that boy. He has been twisted and warped into something unrecognisable. Nothing remains, not even his eyes."

With a huff, Voldemort turned and strode towards the desk. Amelia stayed rooted to the spot, her fear turning her feet to stone even as she spoke easily. "Ruffled by the loss?"

Voldemort ignored her pointed question, flicking open the book on her desk to the marked page. His eyes flicked across the words and he smirked. "How quaint," the words drip from tongue with disgust. "'A little drama wins more friends than boring'."

"Words to live by," Amelia admitted coolly. Soon their game would come to an end, she knew. The cat will tire of toying with his mouse.

He looked up sharply and the smirk twisted into a cruel smile. "And have you lived by them, Miss Bones?" he crooned, gesturing towards her. "Do you intend to die by them?"

Amelia willed her body to move, shifting into a more ready stance. She lifted her arms, her wand ready. "I do not intend to go quietly, if that's what you're asking," she told him.

Voldemort's arms raised a little higher but his posture remained relaxed, confidence oozing from every pore. The confidence of a man who knew he had a situation well in hand. "I would expect nothing less of so admirable a witch."

For a moment neither spoke or breathed. Everything hung still, even the clock did not tick, as the two formidable powers regarded each other.

Then the room exploded in colour and noise.

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 **Much Love, MaryandMerlin x**


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